The Wallflower and the Butterfly

One of the biggest hurdles for people with ASD ( Autism Spectrum Disorder) is social interactions. For me, its a especially hard as most of my life I have been around “normal” folk who have no trouble talking  to others. I am rather a good speaker and can be articulate but I’m not one who can easily approach others  and strike up a conversation.

I recently went to an aikido instructor’s class, where over 40 people were in attendence, most I knew for years, yet I still felt like an outsider. At lunch I sat in a corner alone at a table. While we waited for the afternoon session to start, I stood alone while everyone else chatted.

Mind you this is with people I know. I sat in the front seat on a recent car tripwith someone I’ve known for years, and we barely exchanged words. However, on the way back another person sat up front and the two chatted away. So does she prefer the other person’s company or I am a poor conversationalist? It’s hard for me to tell.

I try to improve my social skills but it’s a struggle. I fret awkwardly, trying to go beyond small talk--which I'm terrible at and wonder how dull or boring I sound. Every social encounter  is scrutinized, analyed and graded as a success or failure. Did I monologue? Did I stay on topic subject or dominate with one of my fixations? How well did I reciprocate ? Did I show interest in them or just wait impatiently until I could babble on.The stress is considerable.

I’m reminded of  what John Elder Robison commented in his memoir “Look Me in the Eye.”

“ Many descriptions of autism and Asperger’s  describe people like me as “not wanting contact with others” or “preferring to play alone.” I can’t speak for other kids, but I’d like to be very clear about my own feelings:  I did not ever want to to be alone . And all those child psychologists who said ”John prefers to play by himself” were dead wrong. I played by myself because I was a failure at playing with with others. I was alone as a result of my own limitations, and being alone was one of the bitterest disappointments of my young life.”

I understand that all too well. Just because  I’m not good at interacting doesn’t mean I don’t want to and the pain of loneliness is as powerful for me as it is for anyone. So should you see me --or someone you know  with ASD at a gathering, please come over and talk, I crave conversation too and will appreciate the kindness of your company.

I'm Dreaming of Pittsburgh

I've been thinking of Pittsburgh cause my novel takes place there. My favorite year was 1967.  Everyday we walked from our apartment on North Nagley Ave. to the Highland Park about a mile away to spend the day in the Children's zoo.

My memories  beyond that  idyllic summer are bits and pieces of confetti but mostly what I recall is the feeling of childhood innocence. The humid summers playing with friends and the thick layer of snow I walked through in winter. My whole existence was in walking distance of home: Roosevelt Elementary School, the drug store, the park. We kids wandered without fear of crime or our safety.

A few years later Mom and my younger siblings lived in the darker Oakland neighborhood where we would walk to Schenley Park, another refuge from the city, or a few blocks to Isley's for a Klondike bar.

The novel has me nostalgic for those sweet days. The city had a funky lived in feel like an old couch: the upholstery was smudged and reeking of smoke. It sagged in a few places but was comfortable and familiar.

When the steel industry collapsed, the city had to reinvent itself like a divorcee suddenly in need of a career. Pittsburgh became bright and livable again once the polluting grime was washed away and it discovered hi-tech greenery. The downtown buildings sparkle in the clean air, the neighborhoods are gentrified. 

All I remember is a seven year old kid walking happily to the zoo.